


In Elin Gelebrin

by ArlenianChronicles



Series: Of Maedhros and the Twin Princes of Doriath [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fanart, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Maedhros tries his best, Relationships tag doesn't have one for Maedhros and Dior's twins, Slight Canon Divergence, So I made them up from scratch, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-31 04:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArlenianChronicles/pseuds/ArlenianChronicles
Summary: After the Second Kinslaying, Maedhros searches for two young children and succeeds in finding them. Here are some small moments of their time together.





	1. I Echui

**Author's Note:**

> I've written quite a bit of fanfics for the Silmarillion, but this is the first one that I'm actually posting. I hope you enjoy it!

He held them to his chest, wrapped under his cloak. He could feel them shivering, could hear their trembling breaths. They weighed next to nothing as any Elf child, even more so from the lack of food. It was a miracle he had managed to find them before more damage could be done …

One of them clutched at his tunic with a small, frostbitten hand. The other was barely moving. He tightened his cloak over them to shield against the biting winds. The snow was getting thicker; if he did not get them out of there quickly –

No. He would get them to Amon Ereb. He would.

***

One week later

It was very warm. He could hear the crackling of a fire, and the rustle of fabric.

At first, that was all that filled his mind. Other things began to surface as he gradually woke, but he still had not opened his eyes.

He remembered a name. 

_ Russandol._

Elurín opened his eyes to see an unfamiliar face looming over him.

Fear stabbed through him.

“Russandol?” he said in a small voice.

The ellon was expressionless. “I am not familiar with that name.”

Elurín’s eyes stung. “Russandol,” he mumbled.

“Is that a friend of yours?”

Elurín said nothing.

“Hmm.” The ellon set something down on a table. “Wait here for a moment. I will be back soon.”

Elurín watched as the ellon left. The door shut behind him.

He could hear voices on the other side – low murmurs. He glanced around, noting the walls and ceiling made of stone, the dancing hearth fire, and the window with closed shutters. He looked at his side, and to his delight saw Eluréd.

Their eyes met. Elurín felt his brother’s hand under the woolly blankets.

Eluréd smiled a little. His eyes drooped, and his breathing soon turned shallow.

With the crackling of the flames and the warmth of the bed, Elurín’s eyes gradually closed as well, and he fell into the realms of sleep.

_ Their faces swirled around him, maintaining shape for a brief moment before dissolving into smoke. Elurín tried to reach for them, but they merely passed through his fingers. _

_ His sister's face seemed to hover before him longer than the others, but she soon disappeared too._

***

Faint beams of moonlight streamed through the window, but not enough to see in the dark. Elurín shifted under the blankets, glancing at the hearth. It had died down to glowing embers.

He nudged his brother’s arm. “Eluréd … Where is Nana? Where is Ada?”

Eluréd stared at the ceiling. “I do not know.”

Elurín sniffled. “I want them. I want Ada and Nana.”

The stinging in his eyes became unbearable. Unable to stem the flow of tears, he began to weep in earnest. Eluréd followed soon after, yet he did not make as much noise. His tears slipped down his cheeks as he stared into the distance.

Elurín shifted closer and rested his head on his twin’s shoulder. He remembered another shoulder, one much broader than Eluréd’s, than even their ada’s.

“Russandol,” he whimpered. “Where is he?”

Eluréd’s brow furrowed. “Who is Russandol?” he asked slowly, voice thick from crying. “It sounds familiar …”

“The man with red hair,” Elurín said, wiping his face with a clumsy hand. “He picked us up from the snow. Remember?”

“A little … He was warm.”

Elurín shivered at the memory. It had been so cold, and Eluréd had stopped moving, and he had thought that they would both die …

And then Russandol had been there. He had indeed been very warm.

Outside the window, winds howled in the night. Elurín’s breath shook as he listened.

“I want Russandol,” he said in a small voice, his heart pounding. “It is too dark here, and I cannot see the stars. Where is he?”

“We ought to find him,” Eluréd said, quiet as a breath. “He will make it less cold.”

_ Yes, he will,_ Elurín thought, thinking of the heavy cloak, the strong arms.

There was a sound in the corner. Elurín turned around just as the door opened. He hardly dared to breathe; a tall shape had come into the room. It stopped at the hearth fire; Elurín squinted, but could not make out what was happening.

Then there was a gentle burst of orange light, and flames were dancing within the hearth once again. In the light, he beheld a tall ellon with … red hair?

Heart beating with mounting hope and worry, Elurín called, “Russandol? Is that you?”

The ellon turned and made his way over to the bedside. As he came closer, Elurín beheld his face, and shrank deeper under the blankets.

“No,” the ellon said, confirming Elurín’s fear. “I am his brother. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

Something tightened in his chest. “… I want Russandol.”

“Do not worry,” the ellon said softly. “He will be back soon to see you.”

Elurín looked up at him. He looked like Russandol … but not really. “He said he would watch over us.”

“I assure you he will return. He is busy now, is all.”

Elurín had no other words to say.

“I will stay with you, if you wish.”

He could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “I want Russandol.”

The ellon looked sad, but it was hard to tell with his face turned away from the light. “I will tell him. Wait here.”

He turned and left, silently shutting the door. Elurín looked back to the hearth fire, gazing at the burning light.

_ Blades flashed in the light. The sound of clashing metal mingled with the screams, the roaring of the flames – _

A tear trailed down Elurín’s cheek.

He heard the door open again, and quickly looked around. Someone was coming toward him … Someone very tall, taller than the other ellon. In the light of the hearth fire, he saw waves of hair that were red.

“Russandol?” Elurín said in a small, hopeful voice.

The newcomer sat down on the edge of the bed. Elurín looked into his face, ringed by the firelight from behind, and relaxed.

“Shh, child,” Russandol murmured. “You are safe.”

Yes. They were safe now. Russandol was here, and that was a good thing.

“Russandol …” Elurín whispered.

“What is it?”

“I miss Ada and Nana.”

Russandol sighed quietly. “I know.”

Elurín felt Eluréd shift a little. “Where are they?” Eluréd asked.

“They are gone,” Russandol said quietly.

“Far away?”

“Yes. Very far.”

More tears spilled from Elurín’s eyes. He could see the same glistening on Eluréd’s cheeks. He remembered the feel of his nana’s embrace, the scent of his ada’s hair. But now he would never see them again …

He imagined them somewhere across a vast body of water, disappearing into the sunlight.

“What will happen to us now?” he asked.

Russandol opened his mouth to respond … And a grumble filled the silence.

Russandol arched an eyebrow. Elurín looked at his stomach, hidden underneath the blankets.

“Now, little ones,” Russandol said, smiling gently, “we will find you something to eat.”

Elurín’s stomach grumbled again. _ Food._ They had not been able to find anything in the forest. They had no knowledge of how to find food there at all. He looked to Eluréd again, and at the same time, they said, “Porridge?”

Russandol’s smile broadened. “I will see what we have. The healers tell me you are well enough to walk. Would you like to come with me to the kitchens, or wait here for my return?”

Elurín glanced at Eluréd again. “We want to come,” he said quickly, while Eluréd nodded.

Russandol stood and held out a hand to them. Pushing back the covers, Elurín and Eluréd got out of bed and went to Russandol’s side. They left the bedchamber in this fashion: Elurín on Russandol’s left and Eluréd on the right. As they passed through corridors, they came across a few other Elves. Elurín shifted closer to Russandol whenever he saw them.

“Do not fear,” Russandol murmured. “They will not hurt you.”

Elurín only moved closer until he was nearly bumping into Russandol’s leg with each stride.

Eventually, they came to the kitchens. Elurín’s brow furrowed upon seeing it – the cooking space looked nothing like the one back home from what he remembered. It was quite big and spacious though, and he caught the scent of cooking food. His stomach grumbled some more.

Russandol led them over to a table. Elurín sat with Eluréd, watching as Russandol spoke to another unfamiliar ellon. This one was wearing an apron. Was he a cook?

_ He must be,_ Elurín thought. After all, the ellon was now stirring a pot, and scooping some hot substance into two bowls. Russandol sat next to them, and the cook brought the bowls over, setting them down before the twins.

_ Porridge! _

It looked different from the porridge back home, though. There were lumps in it. Elurín glanced at his brother, only to see Eluréd take a spoonful, blow on it, and take a bite.

His face contorted a second after.

“What is it?” Russandol asked.

“Er, nothing,” Eluréd said quickly, putting on a slightly twisted smile. “It is good.”

Elurín pursed his lips. Taking a spoonful of his own, he blew on it and took a bite. His muscles seemed to tighten on their own as the odd, strong flavour burst over his tongue. The porridge was tough, not smooth like the ones he usually had. However, he forced his face not to move unpleasantly, and said, “Thank you for the porridge.”

Nana had told them to say thank you, after all. It was good manners. And Russandol had helped them.

The porridge settled his stomach, too. Elurín’s mouth watered for more despite the flavour. They had not eaten for so long – 

Russandol glanced over their heads and gave a small flick of his hand. Elurín followed his gaze and saw the cook disappear in the pantry. When he came out, it was with a jug. He set it down on the table, and then moved away.

Eluréd warily reached out and peered into the jug. “It is milk!” he exclaimed.

“Oh …” Elurín glanced back at the cook, who had returned to his pot of porridge. “Thank you!”

They poured some milk into their bowls and mixed it with the porridge. When Elurín took a bite, it was much more tolerable than before. Back home, they always had honey with their porridge, but this was not home, so Elurín was not upset by not seeing any honey. He beamed at Russandol before attacking his bowl of porridge with newfound vigour.

“Russandol?” Eluréd asked a moment, having spent the last few minutes devouring what he could. “Are you not going to have some?”

Russandol smiled and shook his head. Elurín watched in awe as the dark red waves fell over the man’s shoulders. What an interesting colour! He had never seen an Elf with such hair before. In Doriath, it had always been dark hair, perhaps brown or dark grey. Silver was rare among the Sindar, from what his tutors had said. But red … Was red rarer than silver?

“I am not hungry,” Russandol assured them. “In any case, it is not yet time for me to eat.”

There was silence while the twins finished eating, save for the sound of cooking. Beyond the kitchen window, the night sky was lightening on the horizon. Once Elurín had eaten everything, he looked up at Russandol.

The ellon was tall, even sitting down. Not even Ada was that tall.

“Russandol,” Elurín said, “what will really happen now? Where will we go?”

His heart began to pound, even as he finished asking.

Russandol regarded them. “You may stay, of course.”

The twins stared at him. “Really?” Elurín said breathlessly.

_ We can stay._ He repeated the words in his mind. It felt too good to be true.

“Yes. It would be safest, since winter has yet to end.”

Of course. Winter was very cold. But in here, it was warm and safe. “How long can we stay with you?” he asked, a little hesitantly.

Russandol gazed at them for what felt like a long moment.

“As long as you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> I Echui -- The Awakening  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Ada -- Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon -- Elf-man (singular)
> 
> This chapter is technically a continuation of my illustration here: https://www.deviantart.com/arlenianchronicles/art/I-Have-Found-You-802178170  
It has an accompanying script, which explains how Elurín knows Maedhros' nickname.
> 
> Also something to mention -- the Elf that Elurín sees upon waking is one of the healers who tended to their frostbite (which they got while lost in the forest during an approaching snowstorm).


	2. Estellad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has passed since the twins' arrival in Amon Ereb. They are adjusting, slowly but surely.

Torches were set on the corridor walls, spaced evenly between each other. The light was not enough to push the shadows back. They always seemed to leap out, reaching for Eluréd’s bare feet as he made his way down the corridor. He hurried on.

The council chamber doors were closed, as they always were during a meeting. Eluréd could hear voices on the other side. They were speaking another language, one that he could not understand. _ Quenya,_ Russandol called it.

He leaned against the wall, waiting patiently, though not without a rapidly pounding heart. The shadows flickered around him. The walls gave off a cold, intimidating feel. His feet were getting chilled already, and he reassured himself that he would be seeing Russandol soon. He would –

“Little one?”

Eluréd spun around. From out of the shadows came a tall ellon. He wore hunting clothes, and a bow and quiver were slung over his back. His red hair tumbled over his shoulders.

“Where is your brother?” Amras asked gently.

Eluréd lowered his gaze to the floor. “Still asleep,” he replied quietly.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

Eluréd hesitated. Amras did not yet know. Maglor did, and so did Russandol. But Amras had not been there the past few days to know. “I had a bad dream.”

“Oh …” Understanding and pity crossed the ellon’s face. “And you want to speak to my brother?”

Eluréd nodded.

“It may be a while before he comes out … Would you like to talk to me about it?”

Eluréd stared at him. Amras held out a hand, offering a small, encouraging smile.

But no. He could not go to this one.

Eluréd turned away, facing the doors of the council chamber. He heard Amras sigh quietly behind him.

He prayed Russandol would come out soon. He did not want to be alone here, not with Amras. He did not know Amras.

He did not know Russandol much either. But he did know that Russandol had been the one to find him and Elurín. And that was all he needed to know.

Several minutes later, the doors finally opened. Eluréd hid behind the door closest to him as the councillors left the chamber. They nodded respectfully to Amras. They did not see Eluréd, and he found relief in that.

Once they had all gone, he peered timidly into the council chamber. There was a circular table in the centre, covered with papers. Russandol stood there, alone. He looked up, and a smile lit his scarred face. He strode over to the doorway, and Amras stepped up to meet his embrace.

_ He has not seen me yet,_ Eluréd thought to himself. _ Amras is his brother. He must go first, before me._

“Ambarussa,” Russandol said as he withdrew from the embrace. His voice rumbled with warmth. “You have returned so soon?”

“Yes,” Amras replied. “There was nothing amiss on the outer border.”

A beat of silence. Russandol tilted his head. “What is it?”

Amras turned and gestured for Eluréd to come forward. Eluréd stepped out from his hiding spot, feeling small under Russandol’s shadow.

Understanding immediately dawned in the ellon’s grey eyes. “Child. Come here.”

Eluréd hurried over, just as Russandol kneeled. He was still tall even when kneeling. He held out his left arm, and Eluréd leaned against the ellon’s chest.

His red hair had a different scent than Ada’s. Eluréd could not put a word to it.

“Another one?” Russandol said.

Eluréd nodded, the memory sending cold shivers down his spine. “It was dark, and there was screaming. I could not get out.”

“Hmm.” Russandol stroked Eluréd’s silver hair. “But you are out now, yes? You woke up.”

Eluréd wrapped an arm around Russandol’s great shoulder. He remembered holding Ada in this way, though it was a more comfortable position with Ada than with Russandol. Ada’s shoulder was not so broad.

“It was so scary, Russandol,” he whispered.

The ellon nodded once. “I know.”

Of course he knew. Russandol knew everything, just as Ada and Nana had. Eluréd wrapped both his arms around the ellon, hugging him tightly. Once again, not as comfortable as with Ada, but Russandol was safe, and that was the best Eluréd could ask for.

Russandol held him with a strong but gentle grip. After a moment, he drew back a little to look at Eluréd. “Now, I have some things I must do, so I cannot bring you up to bed. Would you go with Amras?”

Eluréd swallowed. It had always been Russandol who would walk with him – or with Elurín when the latter had a bad dream. But to go with Amras …

Russandol must have read his thoughts. “You know you are safe with him, child,” he said. “He is my brother.”

Eluréd glanced at Amras, who smiled. He held out a hand.

“Go on,” Russandol said gently.

Eluréd bit his lip, but warily reached out and touched Amras’ fingers. Before he knew it, he was holding Amras’ hand. His skin was rough, like Russandol’s.

Russandol smiled. “I will see you and your brother tomorrow morning.”

Eluréd exhaled shakily. “Alright.”

He hugged Russandol once more before setting down the corridor. Amras held his hand, but it was not a tight grip. Eluréd could slip out of it if he wanted. But he did not. Russandol had told him to go with Amras.

At the bedchamber, Eluréd hesitated. Amras crouched down beside him. “If you need anything else, we will be nearby.”

“Thank you,” Eluréd said quietly, remembering his manners.

_ I must go inside,_ he thought. But he remained rooted to the spot.

“You are afraid of dreaming it again?” Amras asked softly.

Eluréd nodded slowly.

"I have nightmares too; I know what they are like,” Amras said. “And so does Maglor. You are not alone.”

Eluréd looked at Amras warily. _ Does he know everything, too? _ Maybe he did. After all, he was Russandol’s brother. And Russandol knew everything.

_ Does that also mean that Amras is safe? _

“In our younger years, my brother and I would have the odd bad dream,” Amras said. “We would stay with each other then, and I always knew that I would be alright with him there.”

Eluréd's brow furrowed. “Russandol?”

Amras shook his head. There was a small, sad smile on his face. “No. I had a twin.”

Eluréd's eyes widened. “Like me and Elurín?”

“Yes,” Amras said, his smile brightening a little. “Except my twin’s hair was a shade darker than mine.”

Eluréd’s eyes rested on Amras’ copper hair. Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out to touch a lock. At the last second, he stopped.

Amras only smiled, inclining his head in invitation. Carefully, Eluréd touched a lock of red hair. Amras did not move, merely closing his eyes as Eluréd turned it between his fingers.

“Why does Maglor not have red hair?” Eluréd asked after a moment.

“Our adar had dark hair, so it passed to Maglor,” Amras explained, opening his eyes. “But our naneth had red hair, and it passed to us, and to Russandol.”

Eluréd looked at Amras. “Elurín and I have silver hair. Our nana … she had silver hair too.”

“I have found that those with hair like yours shine brightly, like silver stars,” Amras said. “If you dream of the darkness again, think of the stars – of their light in your hair.”

Eluréd nodded, both embarrassed by the compliment and encouraged by the advice. Looking into Amras’ pale-grey eyes, he saw that they gleamed brightly. It was rather like starlight. Or perhaps a fiery, sun-like light …

“Are you ready to go in, now?” Amras asked. “Your brother may miss your presence.”

Eluréd looked back to the bedchamber door. “He does not have as many bad dreams.”

“But he still has them, yes?” Amras laid a hand on Eluréd’s shoulder. The weight was rather reassuring. “I am sure he would like you to be at his side."

Eluréd took a deep breath. “Alright.”

Hand-in-hand, they went into the bedchamber. Moonlight streamed through the window, falling over the bed. Elurín had not moved; he was still asleep.

Eluréd climbed into bed. Once he had gotten settled, Amras tucked the blankets around him and brushed a strand of silver hair from Eluréd’s face.

“Goodnight,” he murmured with a smile. Then he left the chamber.

Eluréd gazed at the door for a moment, then looked out the window. The moonlight fell over Elurín’s hair, turning it to bright silver.

_ Bright like the stars._

With Amras’ words in his mind, Eluréd closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

Two weeks later

Amras’ red hair was like bright flame in the sunlight. It was as lovely as silver hair in moonlight.

Eluréd turned his gaze away from Amras’ head to the leaf of parchment he was holding out to them.

“This will be your schedule,” he said, pointing to the words on the parchment. Eluréd and Elurín read it over as he continued. “Tutoring with Astorren in the morning, sword training with Maedhros in the afternoon. We might add a few other things in the future, but for now, we will leave it like this.”

“You said you would teach us hunting, too,” Eluréd said, brow furrowing as he looked over the schedule.

“Ah, yes. I am still making plans for that,” Amras grinned. “In the meantime, I ask that you keep these.”

Reaching into his satchel, he brought out two sheathed blades. They were the size of daggers; the hilt was wrapped in leather. Eluréd and Elurín took one each, handling them with wary awe. The Star of Fëanor was engraved on the front and back of the hilt.

“B-but Amras,” Elurín stammered, “we do not know how to use them!”

“I will teach you while we are hunting,” Amras said. Amusement gleamed in his eyes as he looked at them. “For now, you may keep them in a safe spot.”

“When would you like them back?” Eluréd asked, carefully unsheathing his dagger. The blade gleamed bright and sharp in the morning light. Did Amras really trust them to hold such weapons? The thought made him stand a little straighter.

Amras’ voice was firm. “There is no need. They are yours now.”

***

The twins strode down the sunlit corridor. Eluréd looked at their schedule again. _ Tutoring with Astorren._ Unbidden, an odd anticipation filled him at the thought. What was Astorren like? No doubt he would be different from the Sindar tutors they had had at Doriath …

Beside him, Elurín came to a halt. He gasped. “Look, Eluréd!”

Eluréd blinked and looked around. They had stopped next to a chamber; the door was partly open, and within the chamber, Eluréd saw a harp standing by a window. Beams of sunlight fell over it, casting the column in a golden sheen.

“It is beautiful,” Elurín breathed, eyes wide as he gazed at it.

Eluréd’s thoughts went back to Doriath, to the brief moments of musical teachings they had been given. It had been so that they would have a beginner’s knowledge of music, but politics had been more important to Ada and Nana. Eluréd had never managed to fully understand why, but they had said that it was what all good princes needed to know.

Politics were not so fun as music-making, though.

He stepped into the chamber. Elurín moved more hesitantly after him, but they both reached the harp. Elurín reached out to pluck a string.

The pure sound shimmered around them. Eluréd felt that he could listen to it forever, yet it soon faded away.

Well, that was no good. Gathering his resolve, he sat down at the harp and plucked the strings, remembering one of the songs that he and his brother had learned. A light came into Elurín’s eyes as he recognized the song, and he began to sing.

_ A Elbereth Gilthoniel _

_ O menel palan-diriel, _

_ Le nallon si di’nguruthos! _

_ A tiro nin, Fanuilos! _

Eluréd’s fingers stumbled a few times, but he pushed forward as his brother sang. He looked up at Elurín to see the contented expression on his face, and then glanced at the door.

A cold wave passed over him. The harp’s music stuttered to a stop.

Elurín frowned at him and glanced around. His eyes widened.

“Have no fear,” Maglor said from the doorway. His voice was smooth like honey. “I was only listening. I hope you do not mind.”

Neither of the twins said anything. Eluréd felt that he ought to leave the harp, but he could not move for fear of shattering the silence. Maglor’s face was gentle – not as harsh-edged as Russandol’s. Curtains of dark hair framed his face, falling to his waist. It was not like the waves that fell from Russandol’s head, or Amras’.

“Did you learn music in Doriath?” Maglor asked after a moment, eyes flickering between them.

Eluréd nodded hesitantly, and so did Elurín. The latter's hands had begun to tremble. The leaf of parchment with their schedule crinkled where his hands clutched at it.

“You both sound so beautiful,” Maglor said. “May I come in?”

Eluréd glanced around uncertainly. It was then that he became aware of a desk with papers scattered over it, and a few smaller harps in the corner. Realization dawned on him. “This is your room …!” he breathed.

Elurín’s eyes widened. “We are sorry,” he said hurriedly. Eluréd quickly stood from the harp, and his brother hurried to his side. “We did not mean to trespass –”

“No, no!” Maglor said quickly, holding up both hands as though to show that he was unarmed. “It is alright, children,” he said in a softer voice. “You did not know. There is nothing to forgive. If anyone should be blamed, it ought to be me for not telling you.”

Eluréd shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with Elurín. Then he looked back at Maglor. “You really do not mind?”

Maglor smiled. “I was too enamoured by your playing to mind, little one. And you …” His gaze turned to Eluréd’s brother. “Elurín, yes? Your voice is lovely. I did not know you can sing.”

Eluréd was startled that Maglor had managed to tell them apart, or at least guess correctly. Meanwhile, a pink flush had filled Elurín’s cheeks. “We both can,” he said shyly. “Eluréd is better at music-making than I am.”

“Elurín is good at harmonizing,” Eluréd put in earnestly. “So we always make music together.”

Maglor’s smile broadened. A look of delight brightened his face. “Indeed? I would love to hear your music again. I enjoy making my own as well, you see. Though, I have not made many compositions lately.”

He glanced at the desk covered in papers, a look of regret in his eyes. Eluréd tilted his head, eyeing Maglor in thought. “Can you sing, too?” he asked.

Maglor looked back to him. “Most certainly.”

“Do you sing as well as Daeron?” Elurín asked, bolstered by Eluréd’s courage.

“Ah, Doriath’s minstrel,” Maglor sighed.

“We have heard of his works, but he disappeared a long time ago,” Eluréd said. “Our tutors did not give much time for music.”

“Oh?” Maglor looked oddly displeased for a moment. Then his displeasure passed into a thoughtful expression. “I can continue your musical education, if you desire it.”

Eluréd blinked. He felt his brother’s surprise, mingling with his own. “Really?”

Maglor nodded. “Yes. I will first need to hear you sing and play again to judge your level.”

Eluréd met his brother’s gaze. “Alright.”

He sat back down at the harp and positioned his hands over the strings. Elurín shifted on his feet nervously; they had always been anxious about performing in front of their tutors, even their parents. Grandmother had been a renowned singer, after all. People expected them to live up to that. But Eluréd and Elurín had never heard her sing. They only had people’s words of it, and that was never enough to get a good idea of Grandmother’s voice.

His fingers shook slightly as he plucked the strings. Elurín’s voice wavered at first, which was usual whenever they had an audience.

_ A Elbereth Gilthoniel _

_ Silivren penna miriel _

_ O menel aglar elenath! _

Eluréd looked to Elurín, and smiled encouragingly. Elurín’s voice had strengthened a little, and he seemed a little more at ease.

_ We are doing well,_ Eluréd told himself mentally. His fingers moved over the harp strings, gaining surety as the song went on.

_ Na-chaered palan-diriel _

_ O galadhremmin ennorath _

_ Fanuilos, le linnathon _

_ Nef aear, si nef aearon! _

Eluréd glanced at Maglor as they continued. He had sat down in a chair to watch them; there was a content smile on his face, and his gaze had softened. A light glimmered in his eyes, like in Amras’.

_ Like burning stars. _

Eluréd looked to Elurín. The sunlight touched his brother’s hair, turning it bright and blazing.

_ There are stars in our hair … and in their eyes._ Eluréd plucked the harp strings, glancing at Maglor again. _ If I think of them when I have bad dreams, perhaps their light will push the darkness away. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> Estellad -- Making Trust  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Ada -- Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon -- Elf-man (singular)
> 
> I debated on whether to use the English translation of A Elbereth Gilthoniel, since the twins and everybody talking to them are technically speaking in Sindarin (and this fanfic would be an entire "translation" of their words XD) But I decided to leave the hymn in Sindarin for poetic effect.
> 
> Oh, and if anyone's interested, I imagine the twins to sound like AURORA and her harmonizing vocalist when they sing XDD


	3. Linnathon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks have passed, and the twins are learning what they can from their guardians.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up, I've listed the Quenya phrase translations at the bottom XD Also, I think I can establish a regular posting time for every other day! So the next chapter will be posted on Saturday morning :D

The wooden practice sword was heavy in Eluréd’s hand. They said it would help build strength in his arm, but so far, it was only helping to make his arm ache like mad.

He faced Elurín, who was holding an identical sword. Eluréd settled into the beginner’s stance. His twin mirrored the movement.

_ The twins sat at the table across from their tutor. Sunlight streamed into the chamber from the long window, falling over the leaves of parchment before them. Their tutor, Astorren, was not the most organized of ellyn, but he had an excellent memory. _

_ “Recite the tengwar in Quenya,” Astorren said, which had become a routine for the start of each lesson. “Consonants first.” _

Eluréd raised his sword and lunged, just as Elurín moved. Their swords clacked together.

_ “ _ Tinco, parma, calma, er, q-quesse _ … er …” Eluréd tried to remember the next one. _ “Adho, umpa … _ wait, that is not right … _”

“Sule, formen, harma,” _ Elurín recited. _ “… _ Er, _ malta … hala, vala … silmau …”

_ Astorren gave them a stern look. “You are mixing them up with your native tongue.” _

_ “There are too many sounds!” Elurín said defensively. “Sindarin –” _

_ “Sindarin has too little. You may look at your sheet.” Astorren was patient, which Eluréd found reassuring. “Now, begin again.” _

Eluréd dodged under Elurín’s swipe. He jumped up to catch an opening, triumph pounding through his veins –

But Elurín was not there.

Eluréd felt a poke against his side. He spun around to see Elurín beaming, having won the duel.

Now that they had finished their warm-up, it was time to practice dueling Russandol and Amras. Elurín went to Amras while Eluréd turned to Russandol. It was rather intimidating to face such a tall ellon, but he was a good teacher, and Eluréd wanted to make him proud.

Russandol was not wearing his cloak, just a pair of training breeches and a tunic with the sleeves rolled up. Both of his arms were scarred; his right arm in particular was handless. In the middle of the night, Eluréd and Elurín sometimes discussed ideas on how Russandol had lost his hand. He had never told them the tale, and Eluréd wondered if he ever would. They had to hold these conversations in whispers, and the discussions were always brief, as Russandol was known to stroll the corridors after midnight.

“Tinco, parma, calma, quesse,”_ Eluréd recited, after having checked the tengwar sheet. _“Ando, umbar, anga, ungwe …”

“Súle, formen, harma, hwesta,”_ Elurín continued. _“Anto, ampa, anca, unque …”

“Númen, malta, ngoldo, ngwalme, ore, vala, anna, vilya …”

“Romen, arda, lambe, alda, silme, _ er … _”

_ Elurín quickly checked their sheet. _

Out of the corner of his eye, Eluréd saw his brother stumble halfway through a dodge.

“Silme nuquerna, áze, áze nuquerna …” _ Elurín continued. _

“Hyamen, hwesta sindarinwa, yanta, úre …” _ Eluréd searched his memory, not wanting to check the sheet again. _“Osse, halla, telco, ára!” 

Eluréd found an opening and quickly took it. He grinned up at Russandol, face flushed and chest heaving. A few paces away, he heard Elurín’s whoop and knew that his brother had also won.

He did not notice the knowing smile that Russandol and Amras shared.

_ Astorren nodded with an approving smile. “Very good.” _

The sun was now high in the sky, shining over the training courtyard. Looking up, Eluréd could see a few servants watching from the balustrades. There was usually an onlooker or two during the twins’ training. Eluréd had learned to ignore them for the most part, though he knew that Elurín still grew a little nervous.

_ Astorren shuffled his few leaves of parchment into a neat stack. “Today we will be learning about the family. And there are many terms for each family member, so I expect you to pay close attention as we continue.” _

_ Eluréd and Elurín nodded. _

_"We will begin with the singular terms.” _

Russandol crouched at his side to adjust Eluréd's stance. Amras did the same with Elurín. Eluréd did not mind it, but sometimes he wished that they would hurry so that he could keep moving. 

Russandol pressed between his shoulder blades, and Eluréd stood straighter.

_ “Family is _ nosse,” _ Astorren said as the twins took notes. “Husband, _ venno. _ Wife, _ vesse.

_"Brother, _ toron.”

Eluréd looked at Elurín. Amras was crouched behind the latter, adjusting the position of Elurín's sword arm.

_"Son, _ yon. _ Daughter, _ yelde.”

_“Sister, _ nésa.”

For a brief moment, Eluréd thought of Elwing. Her face was somewhat blurred in his memory, but he knew that she had dark hair -- darker than his and Elurín's -- and grey eyes.

_“Mother, _ amil.”

Nana was a little harder to picture. She had always been busy, though he remembered seeing her more than Ada.

_“Father, _ atar.”

Eluréd looked at Russandol. The latter cast one more critical eye over his stance.

“Atar … _ like Adar?” _

_ Astorren nodded. “Yes. There are many terms that will sound similar to Sindarin."_

Looking satisfied, Russandol stood and lifted his own practice sword.

_ “What is the word for twin?” Elurín asked. _

“Onona. _ Plural is _ ononi.”

“Onona,” _ Elurín murmured. “In Sindarin it is much different.” _

_ “Astorren?” Eluréd said. “About _ Amil … _ is there a different version? Like Naneth – we say Nana.” _

_ “The informal way to say it is _ Amme.”

“Amme,” _ Eluréd repeated. “And for, er, _ Atar?”

_ “We say _ Atto. _ And that leads me into the other terms we can use …” _

_ Atar. _

Eluréd tried to put a face to that word. His ada was Dior. In Eluréd’s mind, his ada’s back was turned. He had long, dark hair that shone like chestnut in the sun. As Eluréd thought on it, his ada’s dark hair began to blur into a reddish-brown …

He looked up at Russandol. His dark red hair shone like flame in the light.

Eluréd took a deep breath and got into his stance.

***

It was only a few hours before dinner when Eluréd and Elurín entered Maglor’s study. He was sitting at his harp, tuning it. He looked up and smiled as they came near.

“Ah, my students. I thought I would let you choose the song for today’s practice.”

Eluréd blinked. “We only know two – A Elbereth Gilthoniel, and the Song of Grandfather and Grandmother.”

“What –” Maglor’s confusion cleared into understanding. “Oh, you mean the Song of Beren and Lúthien.”

Eluréd and Elurín failed to suppress their grins.

Maglor’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Well, let us start with a warm-up, and then you can sing whichever one you like.”

The twins nodded.

“Now, after me –”

“Me me me me me me –”

“No, not yet!” Maglor laughed.

The twins’ recitation dissolved into giggles. Once they had caught their breath, they began the true warm-up – simple vocalizations and scales.

“Very good!” Maglor said once they had finished. “Now, you may begin the song, and I will evaluate you afterward.”

Eluréd cleared his throat and took a breath. As he began to sing, he heard Elurín join in, harmonizing with him.

_ The leaves were long, the grass was green, _

_ The hemlock-umbels tall and fair, _

_ And in the glade a light was seen _

_ Of stars in shadow shimmering. _

His gaze fell on Maglor as they sang. There was a look of pleased content on the ellon’s face as he listened to them.

***

The sun was close to being swallowed by the horizon as the twins hurried over to Russandol’s study. They had already changed into their bedclothes, but it was not yet time for bed.

“Russandol!”

He looked up from his papers on the desk. A smile bloomed over his scarred face. Eluréd did not know how Russandol had gotten them, but he supposed that it must have been in a great battle. After all, Russandol was a warrior. He was very strong, and very brave.

“My boys,” he said, holding out a hand to them. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yes!” Eluréd beamed.

“We learned much!” Elurín added. “My head is buzzing with knowledge.”

Russandol chuckled. “That is good to hear. Astorren tells me you are progressing well in your studies.”

“We keep mixing up the Quenya tengwar, though,” Eluréd confessed.

Elurín nodded emphatically. “There are so many sounds to remember.”

“Ah yes, that is true,” Russandol said. “But you will remember them, with practice. You are very capable boys.” He turned in his chair to face them. “Here, I will ask you a question. _ Man essestat natte? _”

Those words were familiar. Eluréd searched his memory for the meanings, and put them together. “Oh! Er … _Namme estaina,_ er … _Eluréd ar Elurín__."_

Russandol nodded with a smile. Eluréd felt a sense of pride rise within him at this accomplishment.

_“Naste alatulya sisse,"_ Russandol said. 

_“Ar nál?" _ Eluréd said excitedly.

_“Essenya Maitimo na.”_

Eluréd blinked in surprise.

“Maitimo?” Elurín repeated.

“My Mother-Name, yes.”

“Oh, the Amilesse!” Elurín said in realization. “The Noldor have so many names. And we only have one each.” He sounded somewhat displeased, which Eluréd could understand, and sometimes even shared.

“But what name is Russandol, then?” he asked.

Russandol smiled slightly with amusement. “Can you guess?”

Eluréd bit his lip in thought. “Hmm … It sounds like a nickname. An After-Name? The Epesse?”

“Yes, that is correct. You are indeed learning much.”

There was warmth in Russandol's words and face. Eluréd was sure of that. But there was also something else … Something sad and heavy in the grey depths of the ellon's eyes.

“We know some other conversational phrases,” Elurín offered. “Things about food and drink, waking and sleeping.”

“That is fitting, as it is nearly your bedtime,” Russandol said, glancing out the window. The sun had fully set, and the stars were now sparkling in the sky.

“What about you?” Elurín asked. “Hmm, _ ma meril lore camasse? _”

For a split second, Russandol’s smile seemed to freeze. Eluréd’s brow furrowed, but the momentary flicker over Russandol’s face had passed.

“I think you have mixed up the word for ‘bed’,” he said, ruffling Elurín’s hair.

“I did? No, I did not …” Elurín smoothed his mussed hair. “Did I? 

“Were you thinking of _ caima?"_

Elurín frowned. “That is what I said!”

“You used the Sindarin word for ‘guilt’, little one,” Russandol explained patiently. “It should be, _ ma meril lore caimasse? _”

Elurín’s eyes widened. Eluréd’s brow furrowed; the difference between the words seemed so small, but the way Russandol spoke them … The difference suddenly became obvious.

It seemed that Elurín realized that, too. “Oh … _ Á – Á apsene ni, _ Adar –”

Russandol blinked.

Eluréd stared at his brother. Elurín’s eyes were widening.

“Russandol …” he breathed, eyes shining with new worry.

Russandol gazed at them for a long moment. Then he held out his arms to them. 

They moved into his embrace without a second thought. His handless arm was wrapped around Eluréd, but Eluréd did not feel uneasy by it. Within Russandol’s hold, Eluréd felt safe and secure. He leaned his head against Russandol’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat.

“Do not be sorry,” Russandol murmured against their hair. “My Elin Gelebrin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> Linnathon -- I will sing  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Adar/Ada -- Father/Dad  
Naneth/Nana -- Mother/Mom  
ellon/ellyn -- Elf-man/Elf-men
> 
> Quenya Phrases
> 
> Man essestat natte? -- What are your names? (referring to two people)  
Namme estaina Eluréd ar Elurín. -- We two are named Eluréd and Elurín.  
Naste alatulya sisse. -- You are welcome here. (referring to two people)  
Ar nal? -- And you are? (formal)  
Essenya Maitimo na. -- My name is Maitimo.  
Ma meril lore caimasse? -- Do you want to sleep in a bed?  
A apsene ni. -- Forgive me.  
Amilesse -- Mother-Name  
Epesse -- After-Name
> 
> In this scene, Elurín mixes up the Quenya word "caima" (bed) with the Sindarin word "cama" (guilt). I'm not sure what the actual translation would be with the mix-up, but his phrase, "ma meril lore camasse" is intended to sound like, "Do you want to sleep in (a) guilt?" Maedhros catches this mistake, as he can understand both Quenya and Sindarin quite well.  
Of course, Elurín's words kinda hit home with Maedhros, but he hides it well XD


	4. I Thloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the passing of two years, the twins finally hear a startling truth.

Amras was moving fast, dodging and parrying their attacks with ease. Sweat dripped from Elurín’s brow as he lunged, searching for an opening. His brother did the same, trying to strike at Amras while the latter was focused on Elurín, only to be eluded.

“Move your feet!” Amras called.

Elurín quickly moved, managing to block an attack that would have hit his shoulder. He attempted a stabbing strike, yet Amras jumped back –

Eluréd’s practice sword whacked Amras’ leg. “I have you!”

Amras fell from his offensive stance. “Haha, very good! You two are getting better!”

Elurín relaxed and beamed, though he knew that Amras would never have lost in a true duel. Nevertheless it made him swell with pride to know that they were progress well. Moving over to the edge of the courtyard, he took up a towel and wiped his forehead. He would be aching tomorrow, but it would be a good ache.

Above them, a few onlookers watched from the balustrades. Elurín had grown used to seeing them over the past couple of years. Two of them he recognized to be part of Russandol’s soldiers – Alwion, a chestnut-haired ellon with a healthy glow to his face; and Nórimo, an ellon with hair darker than night, and who had a reputation for sprinting.

Elurín had seen them frequently enough to know them by face and voice. He smiled up at them, but they returned only neutral expressions. 

A chatter of voices reached his ears, getting louder. He turned to see Amras and Eluréd approaching.

“When Maedhros returns, he will be pleased to see your progress!” Amras was saying.

“When will he come back from the hunt?” Eluréd asked.

“In a few days’ time,” Amras replied. “Why? Are you eager to see me gone from your training?”

He ruffled Eluréd’s hair. Elurín smiled.

***

Later that day, the twins were to be found walking down a corridor, having just finished their music lessons. Their voices were getting stronger, Maglor had said. Elurín could not wait to learn the more advanced songs from Valinor. There was something about Quenya that sounded very musical, though he still sometimes mispronounced some words. At least he and Eluréd could now remember the tengwar in Quenya without having to check their sheet.

They passed through a balustrade and fell under the beams of afternoon sunlight. Elurín could see the courtyards down below; some soldiers were training there, the clash of their swords ringing in the air.

A murmur of voices caught his ear, and he looked up. There was a balustrade above them, and if he leaned against the railing just a little, he could just see the dark-haired heads of two ellyn. Elurín could not see them clearly … 

At the moment, they were talking. Elurín heard his name pass through the conversation.

He quickly moved away from the railing.

“What is it?” Eluréd asked, moving over to see what it was.

Elurín yanked him back. “Shh!”

Together, they remained silent as the conversation above floated down to them.

“Are you not concerned about this?” the first ellon said, sounding frustrated.

Elurín blinked – that was Alwion!

“About what?” The second ellon seemed exasperated. _ Nórimo,_ Elurín recognized. “That two children are learning to fight?”

“That they are being trained by our lords! That they will grow to wield such strength and skill as to lead an army!”

Nórimo scoffed. “You worry too much. Who says they will be as skilled as Lord Maitimo just because he is the one teaching them?”

The voices were moving farther away. Elurín and Eluréd hurried along the balustrade, following their ears.

“Hmph. Did Lord Macalaurë not say that their voices are stronger than would be expected?” Alwion said pointedly.

“You think that is another thing to fret over?”

“That is the point!” Alwion exclaimed angrily. “They are gaining far too many skills for my liking.”

“You have heard them sing before, and so have I,” Nórimo said. “They do not wield even half the power of Lord Macalaurë’s music.” There was a brief pause. “Besides, it is not terribly surprising to hear that they sing well. After all, Lúthien Tinúviel is – was – their grandmother.”

Elurín and Eluréd exchanged glances.

“Fine, then,” Alwion huffed. “They may not have our lords’ power, but if they were released into the wild … Who is to say they will not go to their people and rally them against us?”

Elurín wanted to shake Alwion by the shoulders. Why would they attack Amon Ereb? They had no people now. And besides, they – 

“They love Lord Maitimo.”

Elurín exhaled quietly in relief, grateful to Nórimo.

“That will mean nothing,” Alwion said, voice dangerously low, “when they learn that he slew their people and destroyed their home.”

Elurín nearly stopped breathing.

_ That is not true! _

He turned to Eluréd. There was a look of dawning horror on his brother’s face.

_ No. It cannot be so. _

“Lord Maitimo has forgiven their heritage,” Nórimo said. “They can do the same for us.”

“You think it will be so easy for them to forgive?”

“I said that they _ can__,_ not that they _ will__._ What we have done is no comparison. If they do attack us in the future, it will be well deserved.”

“I will not fall to Grey Elves who have never seen the Light,” Alwion sneered.

“Be careful how you act!” Nórimo hissed. “You know what happened to Lord Tyelcormo’s servants after they left the twins in the forest! Do you want to face Lord Maitimo’s wrath?”

_ Tyelcormo … That is Celegorm__,_ Elurín thought. _ Russandol’s brother. _

“At least they had good reason!” Alwion snapped. “An eye for an eye, would you not say? Doriath did not help our people when they fled west to Nargothrond during the Bragollach. Dior refused to hand over the Silmaril, and slew our lord!”

_ He killed Celegorm? _ Elurín thought in shock. _ Ada … _

“And that justifies leaving two innocent children to die?” Nórimo demanded. “We attacked, and Dior responded in kind.”

“Bah! He could have avoided it all, but chose not to. We did what had to be done, what our lords' oath required us to do. What can the Grey-elves understand about that?” 

The voices were getting fainter as the ellyn continued walking. However, Elurín remained rooted to the spot. Eluréd was at his side.

They looked at each other. There was a tightening feeling in Elurín’s chest; he felt as though he were suffocating.

_ They cannot mean that. That cannot be true … _

_ Russandol … _

Eluréd’s hand slipped into his. Together, they turned and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> I Thloss -- The Whisper  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Ada -- Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon/ellyn -- Elf-man/Elf-men
> 
> And so the drama begins XD


	5. I Chaded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maedhros returns after a three-day hunt, and the twins are waiting for him.

Russandol was returning today. They waited inside the drawing room entrance; Fëanor’s emblem loomed over them, engraved upon the stone doors.

Eluréd had fallen into the slow rhythm of polishing his dagger with a square of cloth. The dagger that Amras had given him and taught him how to use. Elurín had not brought his. He stood there, staring at the floor.

Hanging above them, two lamps cast a warm orange light around the room.

They waited in silence. Eluréd’s heart was already pounding, though he tried to distract himself with the polishing of his dagger. It had been days since he last cleaned it.

They had not yet said anything to Maglor or Amras about what they had heard.

At his side, Elurín remained still.

Then the doors opened.

He stood there in the doorway, tall and strong, red hair tumbling over his shoulders. His red cloak was draped over his right side, covering his handless arm. His grey eyes fell on them, and a smile touched his lips.

“Elin Gelebrin. How have you fared?”

Eluréd knew he had to say something. He had prepared the words from countless discussions with his twin. But with Russandol finally here … All that preparation no longer seemed to matter.

Russandol’s smile faded from his face as he waited. He arched an eyebrow, stepping into the drawing room. “What is it?”

Eluréd breathed deeply and looked up at him. “Adar, you said you found us in the woods.”

Russandol’s brow furrowed slightly. “Yes.”

“But you never said how we came to be there.”

Russandol was silent. Eluréd could not help his surprise; Russandol had never refused them an answer before.

“They said that Celegorm’s servants took us,” Eluréd prompted.

“Who told you?” Russandol said suddenly.

Elurín gave a slight start, but Eluréd continued. “They were angry because Ada Dior killed him.”

“Eluréd –”

“And Ada Dior killed him because he attacked Doriath.” Accusation slipped into his words. “_You _ attacked Doriath.”

Russandol stared at them for a long moment. Impatience trickled through Eluréd, yet he said nothing as he waited.

And then Russandol spoke, his words low and heavy. “I did.”

Silence fell upon them. Eluréd’s heart stuttered, quickened, and slowed. He heard his brother’s trembling breaths, but did not look at him. His eyes were fixed on Russandol –

No, this was not Russandol. This was not the ellon he knew.

Then again, he had to admit that he did not know much about the sons of Fëanor.

He did not know Maedhros, and some part of him was frightened by that.

The words burned in his throat. “Did you kill Ada Dior and Nana Nimloth?”

Maedhros’ face remained stoic. Impatience trickled through Eluréd at the sight. “I was not there when they fell,” the ellon said.

“Who was it, then?” Eluréd demanded. 

“Eluréd …”

His voice rose. “_Who was it? _”

“Celegorm.”

Eluréd blinked, startled into silence by the strong tone.

“They slew each other at the same time,” Maedhros added, softening his voice.

Eluréd’s face contorted for a moment, yet he managed to gather his control. “Then I am glad that Ada Dior got his vengeance before he died,” he said bitterly.

It was as though he were seeing Maedhros for the first time. The ellon seemed taller than ever, and butterflies fluttered in Eluréd’s gut despite his burning anger.

“Who told you of this?” Maedhros demanded.

“It should have been you who told us!” Eluréd shouted.

“Adar …” a soft voice breathed. Eluréd blinked; his twin had not spoken since Maedhros had returned. Elurín was standing partly behind Eluréd now, and he could hear the thickness of tears in his brother’s voice. “Where is Elwing?”

A muscle twitched in Maedhros’ jaw. “I do not even know if she is alive,” he said. “It is likely she died that night.”

“But there were survivors of Doriath?” Eluréd asked, a sliver of hope in his heart.

“If there were, I have not learned of their whereabouts.”

Eluréd breathed deeply. The polishing cloth dropped from his hand as he gestured around the room as though it were all of Amon Ereb. “You have all these Elves at your beck and call, yet you cannot find out something so simple as this?”

“You think it so easy?” Maedhros said sharply. “Have you not heard anything I taught you?”

“The evil of Morgoth spreads ever further,” Elurín whispered.

That was true, at least. And yet it was not enough.

“Nevertheless, you still withheld this from us!” Eluréd cried, fists clenching at his sides. “Why did you not tell us that you destroyed our home?”

“It was best for you,” Maedhros said in a low voice. Years ago, Eluréd would have been frightened by the sound, but now he was too infuriated to notice. “What would you have said?”

“We had a right to know!”

“I did not want to tell you before you came of age.”

The injustice of it all boiled within him. “That does not matter!” he shouted, only for his voice to break. “Adar, you – how could you? I trusted you, _ we _ trusted you! I thought –” His eyes burned, and he looked away.

There was a beat of heavy silence, punctured by Elurín’s soft weeping. Eluréd heard the soft rustle of fabric, and dared to look up.

“I did what I judged to be right …” Maedhros murmured, “... what I judged to be the safest option for you.”

Eluréd swallowed thickly. “Why did you come after us? Why did you take us away?”

Maedhros’ eyes seemed to pierce through him. “Because I could not let you die.”

His anger rose at that. “Perhaps you should have! You –” The word rose through his throat and was hurled with as much force as he could muster. 

“_Kinslayer! _”

He saw Maedhros’ struck expression, the burning light in his eyes. Elurín had stopped weeping, allowing the tears to dry on his face as he watched with an almost cathartic expression.

But Eluréd was not finished.

“You took away our parents, our people, all because of your stupid oath! You should have left us in the forest – I would rather have died instead of being raised by you!”

It felt like a release to finally say it. All things he had wanted to say since hearing the ellyn speak the truth – it was all coming out, bursting from him and falling at Maedhros’ feet. He was left breathing heavily, his chest heaving.

Then he saw Maedhros’ expression.

It was frightening to behold.

“_Eluréd! _” Maedhros took a step forward. “You know not of what you speak!”

Fear filled Eluréd to the brim.

His fists clenched again, and he felt something in his hand – something that he had forgotten about until now.

“Stay away from us,” he whispered, voice trembling.

Maedhros held out his hand, as though to show that he was unarmed.

_ But he does not need a blade to hurt us. _

“My Êl Gelebren –” Maedhros began.

Eluréd’s breath turned to gasps. Maedhros was coming too close.

Everything sharpened into focus. “_Stay away –! _”

The dagger rose into the air. Eluréd’s eyes fixed on Maedhros’ chest – it was right there, unprotected –

Unbidden, his gaze rose to Maedhros’ face.

It was pale and scarred, and his eyes –

Eluréd’s breath caught in his throat.

The dagger fell from his grip and clattered onto the stone floor.

No one spoke. Maedhros had stopped moving; he stared at Eluréd, speechless. Eluréd stared back, unable to think or even move. His heart thudded rapidly against his ribs, so much that he thought it would soon burst.

He felt something against his hand, filling the space left by the dagger. Fingers squeezed his own. _ Elurín. My brother._

Unable to bear Maedhros’ gaze, Eluréd spun around and dashed out of the room through another door. Elurín followed close behind. Their hands remained tightly entwined as they sprinted away.

With each stride, Eluréd was reassured that they were getting farther and farther away from the one who had betrayed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> I Chaded -- The Sundering  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Êl Gelebren -- Silver Star (singular form of Elin Gelebrin)  
Ada -- Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon/ellyn -- Elf-man/Elf-men
> 
> It's not said specifically who killed Dior, only that he killed Celegorm, and then Curufin and Caranthir also fell in Doriath. So I'm thinking that the latter two either die elsewhere, or Dior kills them first, and then Celegorm goes in to kill him. And then they kill each other at nearly the same time.
> 
> Also, I haven't announced this on my social media yet, but I've been preparing illustrated pages for a comic version of this chapter! I hope to begin posting them on DeviantArt and Instagram soon, but I still need to finish up my current project and a few other things first XD But just thought I'd let you guys know :)
> 
> Edit: The comic for this chapter is completed! :D


	6. Athrabeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within the forest, the twins have an important discussion.

Dappled sunlight fell upon the forest floor, creating shifting patterns as the leafy canopy rustled in the cool wind overhead. Fortunately, the branch that Elurín and Eluréd sat on was strong enough to hold them both. Then again, they weighed very little.

Up there, near the canopy, Elurín felt that they were well-hidden. The forest was Amon Ereb’s only neighbour, but they had chosen to go as deep into the trees as they dared. When Elurín poked his head through the canopy, he could see that the fortress was nearer than he was comfortable with.

_ If Russandol searches for us, no doubt he will find us. _

But they had been careful. They had cleaned away their tracks throughout their trek through the trees, while also keeping a watch on certain landmarks in case they got lost. Amras had taught them much during their hunting trips. It had been more about tracking than actually shooting game, now that Elurín thought more on it. Part of him suspected that Russandol had been the one to request that of Amras.

_ He found us in a forest, after all, _ Elurín thought to himself. The memory sent a confused mix of sadness and frustration swirling in his gut. His chest felt uncomfortably tight. He wanted to cry, and shout. He wanted to run as far away from Amon Ereb as possible, but he also wanted to run back and find Russandol and hug him tight. He wanted to feel safe and secure again within the ellon’s embrace, as he had when Russandol first found them.

Beside him, Eluréd stared off into the tree-streaked distance. Elurín was not sure whether he ought to speak or stay quiet; his brother’s words still rang in his ears.

_ But we cannot remain silent forever, _ he thought.

“Eluréd?” he said tentatively. “What should we do?”

“We could leave this place,” his brother promptly replied, as though he had been thinking about it at that moment. “We could run.”

Elurín licked his dry lips. “And where would we go? Doriath is gone.”

“Perhaps Elwing is still alive.”

“No one knows if she is for certain,” Elurín said carefully. “Not even Adar.”

“Do not call him that,” Eluréd said sharply. “He is not our Adar.”

Elurín clasped his trembling hands together on his lap. “I know nothing else to call him.”

Eluréd looked at him with incredulous eyes. “He has four names and you know nothing else to call him?”

“I was not the one to give him those names. They taste off on my tongue.”

“Then by all means, call him a murderer!” Eluréd said angrily. “Kinslayer! A liar and a cheat! You cannot deny that these are true.”

Eluréd took a deep breath. It did not help to calm his beating heart. “They _ are _ true,” he said quietly.

His brother stared at him. “Are you not angry?”

“I am.” Elurín met Eluréd's eyes with a small smile. “But you are speaking well enough for the both of us.”

He saw the fight disappear from Eluréd’s burning gaze. Then it was just his brother, a lost child, like himself. Eluréd rubbed his forehead. “Brother, I feel so tired.”

Elurín felt the same way. “Perhaps we ought to go back and speak to him,” he suggested.

“No,” Eluréd said flatly. “I do not think I could bear to look at him.”

Elurín glanced over his shoulder at the way they had come. Sunlight cut across the tree trunks, and he could not see anybody on the ground. When he turned back, Eluréd was looking at him.

Elurín laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You frightened me, Eluréd,” he said softly. “I thought you were going to strike.”

Eluréd lowered his gaze. “I thought so too. But then I …” He stopped. Elurín waited patiently.

“I just wish … why did he not tell us before?” Eluréd asked, looking up at the canopy as though it would give him the answer.

“He said he wanted to wait until we were of age,” Elurín murmured.

His twin snorted. 

“Perhaps he thought that there was no need for us to know,” Elurín said thoughtfully. “There was nothing left for us.”

“Of course there was not, because he made sure of that!” Eluréd spat. “He killed our parents!”

Elurín’s hands tightened around each other. “His brother killed our parents. It was Celegorm’s servants who left us to die.”

“I wish it had been Rus – Maedhros.”

_ Maedhros._ Elurín still had not gotten used to it, despite hearing Maglor and Amras use it many times already. “It would make it easier to hate him, yes,” he agreed.

“And you do not hate him?” Eluréd said, once again looking at him with bright eyes.

Elurín hesitated, anxiously searching for the words. “I …”

“You would choose the Kinslayers over your family?” Eluréd demanded.

Something broke inside him. “It is not like that!” he cried, tears overflowing in his eyes. He tried to stop them, but they came thick and fast, staining the robes of his lap.

Eluréd stared at him, anger turning to mingled surprise and shame. “Elurín …”

Elurín reached up, partly to wipe his eyes and also to hide from his brother. “I love them,” he wept. “Amras and Maglor … and Adar. I love him, perhaps as I loved Ada Dior, but I can barely remember that …”

No, he remembered the heavy cloak and strong arm, both wrapped around him. He remembered hearing a heartbeat, feeling it against his palm.

“Russandol … he has always been there,” Elurín continued, lowering his hands. The tears refused to cease, so he decided to let them be. “He raised us and taught us … and he attacked our home. I cannot understand it. I love him, and I hate him, and I …” He could not finish. It was too much.

“Elurín,” his brother said, and Elurín saw his own anguish mirrored in Eluréd’s eyes. “I am sorry …”

Elurín sniffled, taking a moment to calm his breathing. Then he took Eluréd’s hand in a reassuring gesture. Eluréd managed a small smile. 

A gentle breeze ruffled their hair, and Elurín closed his eyes as the wind dried his damp cheeks. After a moment, he spoke. “Eluréd … where would we go if we ran away? Do you think we could find Elwing?”

Eluréd sighed quietly. “I was speaking out of anger, my brother.”

“You think she is dead?”

“Even if Elwing is alive, we know not where she is.”

Elurín released Eluréd’s hand, though they still remained near touching on the tree branch. “We at least know how to hunt and walk through the forests.”

“Out there, we do not,” Eluréd said pointedly. “They – the sons of Fëanor were not lying when they said that danger lies beyond these borders. Orcs and wargs, and other evil things …” He shook his head. “We know not how to fight them. We still cannot even beat Amras in a two-to-one spar. A _real_ spar, not a practice session,” he added.

Elurín could not help but smile. “Well … that is true. But if we did find her …”

“She would not be alone, not if there were others who escaped with her. And who would take in children raised by Kinslayers?” He could hear the bitterness in his brother’s words. 

“I … I suppose you are right. Eluréd …” Elurín hesitated. “Do you still love Russandol?”

Eluréd squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. “Yes, I do. And that is why it is so – so frustrating. I trusted him, I was happy with him, but now …” 

“I was happy with him, too. But he is not happy with himself.”

His twin looked to him. “Elurín, what do you want to do? Speak truly.”

Elurín sighed. “I do not know what to do. We are not prisoners.” He was certain of that much, at least. “He told us he would take care of us, and he has never gone back on his word. But he also slew our people. I do not even know if he regrets killing them.” Sadness welled within him. “Perhaps he does not.”

“He does,” Eluréd said quietly.

Elurín looked at him in surprise. “You know? How?”

“I … I saw it,” his brother murmured. “When I raised the dagger, I saw it.”

Elurín’s brow furrowed. “Why did you drop it?”

“I just …” Something haunted appeared in Eluréd’s gaze. “I looked at him, at his eyes, and I saw …” He shook his head, looking away. “I could not do it.”

“Do you think he would have let you strike?” Elurín asked softly.

Eluréd shrugged. “He knows I am weak. In any case, I likely would have only made a shallow wound. But even then,” he continued with a sense of certainty, “it would make me no better than him.”

That was at least true, though Elurín believed that there was still a difference in the gravity of their deeds. Eluréd, at least, still had a chance to be forgiven. But Russandol … That was more difficult.

“If you are weak, then so am I,” Elurín said, remembering the raised voices with a wince. “I had no courage to say anything.” He looked to Eluréd, taking his hand again. “But if you did strike, do you think he would have stopped you?”

Eluréd looked at him with steady, grey eyes. “No,” he said, each word holding a great weight. “He would have let me. I saw it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> Athrabeth -- Conversation  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Adar/Ada -- Father/Dad  
ellon -- Elf-man (singular)
> 
> Nothing much to say for this chapter, except that Maedhros would not have let Eluréd become a Kinslayer. And Eluréd would not have let himself become one, either.


	7. Barradhed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three days of staying away, the twins return to Amon Ereb.

The moment they had turned to run, he had chosen not to follow them. He could only watch with an ache in his chest as they got farther and farther away. But he did not run after them.

If he did, he would only become a greater threat to them. He would be their pursuer, set on running them down, barring them from freedom.

So he let them go, withholding the urge to call after them. A deep part of him hoped – even dared to pray – that they would stay within the fortress. It was safest, and they knew that. He hoped they would remember. It was too dangerous beyond the stone walls, even with the patrols and scouts.

He waited at least two hours before going to their bedchamber.

They were not there.

He checked all their frequented areas. The library, the training courtyard, even the tower with a view of the lands to the west. They were not to be found.

Worry lodged itself into his throat, but he kept it from leaking into his voice as he asked the servants. They had not seen them, they said.

And so he summoned Maglor and Amras.

He told them what had happened, and the result was an argument. Bitter words and accusations were thrown against the walls, but he was not about to spend the next hour debating what they could, or should, have done.

And so they passed through the gates and searched outside the walls. They even went into the forest. He could not help but feel uneasy – memories of a week spent searching in an oncoming snowstorm flashed through his mind.

Amras assured him that he had taught them much in the art of tracking and navigating the forest. His response was that Amras had not taught them _ all _ he knew.

He ended up spending the night in the forest, searching. Amras remained with him while Maglor returned to govern over the fortress in their absence. When dawn arrived, he was still out there with Amras, searching.

It was only until late afternoon of the third day that he finally returned to Amon Ereb. Even then, he was already planning to return.

He had found them once, and he would find them again.

***

The sun had already set as Elurín and Eluréd approached Russandol’s study. Despite Elurín’s worry about returning, he had to admit that it felt good to be within secure walls again. Throughout the day and night, the forest seemed to hide part of itself within shadows, lending itself an air of danger. The merest snap of a twig could mean anything. The twins had stayed high up in the trees, staying away from the light of both sun and moon in case it shone upon their silver hair.

During the day, they had eaten berries and nuts, making use of Amras’ lessons on edible vegetation. They could have stayed out there for longer, yet a sense of longing had settled itself in Elurín’s heart, and he knew that Eluréd felt the same.

And in any case, they had to return to Russandol. Running away would not do anything to help the matter between them. 

Now they were to be found standing before the door of Russandol’s study. They had bathed in the stream before coming, and filled their stomachs on edible roots. Elurín had prepared himself for this moment, yet he merely stared at the doorknob, hesitating to take it.

Eluréd was the one who finally moved, taking hold of the knob and turning it. The door opened silently.

Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating part of the study. The hearth was not lit, and neither were any candles. Yet Elurín quickly found what he was looking for.

Standing before the desk was the tall silhouette of Russandol. His back was facing them.

Elurín exchanged a glance with Eluréd. Surely they should say something …

Russandol’s head turned slightly, as though he just heard something. Then he turned around fully, and beheld the twins.

Elurín expected him to speak, perhaps to even shout. He braced himself for demands of where they had been, what they had been thinking … but none of that came. 

He looked up warily into Russandol’s face. In the moonlight, he saw something that looked like relief, but he could not be sure.

Then Russandol went over to them, moving slowly, almost cautiously. The twins did not back away. Elurín stared at Russandol as he stood before them … And then, to his surprise, Russandol rested a hand on his shoulder and his stump on Eluréd’s shoulder, gently turned them around, and walked with them to their bedchamber. Elurín was so startled that he could hardly find anything to say.

The sight of their bedchamber sent a wave of exhaustion over Elurín. He had not realized it before then, yet now his limbs cried out their displeasure at having been used for three days without proper rest.

Russandol gently nudged them forward. With his help, they managed to change into their bedclothes before climbing into bed. Elurín’s eyes closed even before his head hit the pillow.

The last thing he knew was of Russandol tucking the blankets around them.

***

He awoke to hear a soft sizzling in the dark.

His eyes fell on the hearth fire across from the bed. Embers glowed orange and yellow, slowly dying down. At his side, Eluréd’s eyes were open. They shared a meaningful glance, and then looked around the room.

Russandol was standing at the window, looking out into the night. Elurín watched him for a moment. _ Was he here all night? _

No doubt feeling his gaze, Russandol turned to see them looking at him. His eyes softened.

“My Elin Gelebrin. How do you feel?”

Elurín could not help the small bit of warmth that bloomed in his chest at their endearment. “We want to speak with you,” he said. Eluréd remained silent, fearing that he would lose control of his anger if he spoke with Russandol. And so Elurín decided that it would be his turn to talk.

“And I with you,” Russandol said. “But there are still a few hours left before dawn. You may continue resting.”

It was warm and cozy under the woolly blankets, making Russandol's offer sound very tempting. Yet Elurín shook his head. “No, we are awake now. Are you awake?”

“Very much so.”

“Can we talk now, then?”

Russandol inclined his head. “Very well, if you wish it.”

He came around the bed and sat down in a chair at their side. At the same time, the twins sat up, leaning against the propped-up pillows. Once they had all settled, Russandol looked to the them, and Elurín knew that it would be up to him to initiate the talk.

“You were searching for us?” he asked.

Russandol nodded. “Yes.”

There was a pause, during which Elurín waited for angry demands. Yet none came, as before. “You are not going to ask where we were?” he asked uncertainly.

“I knew you were somewhere in the forest,” Russandol said quietly.

“Oh …” Something about the ellon’s words sent a flare of surprise through Elurín. “You could not find us?”

“No.” There was both regret and pride in Russandol’s voice. “You covered your tracks well.”

“Do you regret teaching us as much as you did, then?”

Russandol shook his head with a small smile. “Of course not. I am very proud of you both.” His smile faded, replaced by a burning gaze. “But you worried me greatly. I did not expect you to run so far, or remain out there for three days.”

Elurín glanced at Eluréd, who looked back solemnly. “We needed some time alone.”

Russandol seemed to wince, but it was hard to tell in the dim light of the room. Only the faint moonlight illuminated them. “I understand.”

“We had a very long talk,” Elurín said softly. “But we are back now.”

Russandol’s eyes flickered from Elurín to Eluréd, and back again. “I can see that. Why have you returned?”

Elurín blinked. “What?”

“Why did you come back?” Each word was weighed. “You know who I am now. _ What _ I am."

Elurín bit his lip, unsure of how to answer. Even when they had practiced their thoughts in the forest, he had still been unable to find the proper words.

“It would have been possible to stay in the forest for as long as you wished,” Russandol pointed out. Perhaps he had not noticed, but he was leaning toward them a little. “Evil things do not pass through there, not with my scouts patrolling it. Why have you come back here,” his voice thickened slightly, “to me?"

Elurín swallowed. Now he had a better idea of why Eluréd had not wanted to talk. “Because you are our Adar.”

He noticed when Russandol’s hand tightened into a fist. “I am a Kinslayer.” His eyes moved to Eluréd, who gazed back steadily.

“Yes,” Elurín said slowly. “And you are Nelyafinwë, and Maitimo, and Russandol, and Maedhros. And Adar,” he added quietly.

“Five names cannot make up for this title. You are not forgiving me,” he said in a low voice. “You cannot forgive me.”

Elurín sighed deeply. "No, you are right. We should not forgive you."

"Then why …?"

"You killed our people and destroyed our home. But then you searched for us when we were lost, and saved us from the snow. You raised us and kept us safe." Elurín hesitated. "We do not understand why you did all that …"

"I took you in against my better judgement, and now we all must pay," Russandol said heavily. "But there is nowhere else for you to go, no one who would take you in. I know that," he said softly, "and I am sorry."

"Do you wish you had done otherwise?" Elurín asked, partly dreading the answer but at the same time wanting to know the truth.

Russandol moistened his lips. "I … cannot bring myself to think of the alternative." His eyes gleamed in the light as he gazed at them. "I love you too much to regret it."

"Adar," Eluréd said suddenly, hesitating, "I did not mean to …"

Russandol's gaze softened. "I know you could not have hurt me, Eluréd."

There was silence for a moment. Russandol glanced over at the hearth; the embers were barely glowing. He silently got up and went over to it. Elurín and Eluréd watched as a small fire bloomed under Russandol’s care, casting a soft light through the room. Russandol remained standing there.

“Adar,” Elurín said, “when Celegorm’s servants left us to die … why did you search for us?”

Russandol looked back at them. The firelight cast his scars into relief. “I told you. I could not let you die.”

“But why? Why come after us and not the other children of Doriath?”

The blankets shifted as Eluréd sat up straighter, watching.

Russandol’s brow furrowed. “I do not know. Everything was in chaos. And then I heard that my brother’s servants had taken you …” He glanced back into the flames, leaning his handless arm against the hearth’s mantlepiece. “The chaos of war is great,” he murmured. “I lost many brothers that way.”

Elurín exchanged a glance with Eluréd. “Amras does not have his twin,” Eluréd said hesitantly.

“No,” Russandol said quietly. “He does not.”

“Did we remind you of them?”

There was a pause.

“Perhaps,” Russandol replied, not turning around.

Elurín’s brow furrowed. Something about that sent an odd mix of confusion and uncertainty through him.

“Adar,” he said carefully, “surely you know that would not be fair to us? How must we feel if you came only for us, and only because we reminded you of your brothers?”

Russandol looked back at him then, surprised. “Elurín …”

“What if we were not twins, Adar?” Elurín suggested. “Would you still have come for us, even then?”

“I cannot know for sure.” A frown tugged at Russandol’s lips. “Why do you wish to know the paths of Doom?”

“We cannot help but wonder. It could have gone much differently, Adar,” Elurín’s voice softened. “You might not have come for us, and we would have died.”

“Perhaps it would have made things easier,” Eluréd murmured.

Russandol strode over to them and sat on the edge of the bed. To suddenly have him sitting so close threw Elurín off-balance.

“My Elin Gelebrin, do not say such things,” Russandol said in a low voice. “Many things might have happened. Were it not for the Oath – for my decisions – Doriath might not have been attacked, and we would not be sitting here.”

Elurín tilted his head, gazing at the ellon in thought. He imagined what it would have been like if Russandol had never come for them.

He would have been in the forest, losing feeling of his body as he froze to death in the snow.

But Russandol had come for them, and so they were sitting in bed, speaking with him.

And what if he had never attacked Doriath?

The twins would be with their parents, no doubt. Elurín imagined himself standing with his ada and nana, holding their hands, speaking to them.

But if Elurín was with them, that meant he would not be with Russandol. Perhaps he would hear of him … He would know him by the name of Maedhros, son of Fëanor. And he would certainly not hold the same feelings for distant Maedhros as he did for Adar Maedhros now.

He sighed, glancing at Eluréd. In his brother’s eyes, he saw his own thoughts and feelings. Eluréd gave him a small nod, and Elurín turned back to Russandol.

“Adar, you said we cannot forgive you,” he said solemnly. “But we can. It is our choice.”

“I beg you not to make the wrong choice,” Russandol said fervently.

Elurín was startled; as far as he knew, Russandol was never one to beg. However, Elurín was undeterred.

“We talked about it, Adar. We will not forgive you now. There is still much to talk about with you.”

Russandol lowered his gaze, nodding once with a resigned understanding.

“But one day we will,” Elurín continued. “Because you have our love, as well.”

Russandol’s eyes snapped up, searching Elurín’s face with a burning light. But Elurín was no longer worried, or afraid. The first hurdle had been overcome, or at least he hoped. He knew they would forgive Russandol someday, just as he knew they would never forget what happened to Doriath and their people.

It was a start. A small one perhaps, but still one nevertheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> Barradhed -- Returning Home  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Adar/Ada -- Father/Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon -- Elf-man (singular)
> 
> Just one more chapter left!


	8. Uiveleth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years have passed since the conversation between Maedhros and the twins. Now an important message arrives, concerning those who were thought to be lost.

The twins stood outside the council chamber. It had become such a familiar sight over the years of living in Amon Ereb. Now every time they were summoned to the chamber, Eluréd expected important business. More personal matters were delegated to Russandol’s study.

That had happened often, as well. Eluréd could remember each conversation that they had held, sitting beside Russandol instead of having the table between them … 

He blinked and shook his head. All the councillors were nearly out of the chamber. Among them were Maglor and Amras; they gently clapped the twins on the shoulders as they passed by. Once they had all gone, Eluréd and Elurín peered into the chamber.

Russandol sat at the front of the round table. He beckoned to them with his left hand. "Come, Elin Gelebrin."

The twins went inside. Eluréd was not sure what to expect, but it had to be serious. Russandol was wearing a stoic expression as they approached.

“You heard about the message that arrived this morning?” he said.

The twins nodded. “What is it, Adar?” Eluréd asked worriedly.

Russandol regarded them for a moment. Then he spoke.

“Your sister. She is alive.”

Eluréd and Elurín stared at him, speechless. His words echoed in Eluréd’s mind as he tried to digest them.

“Elwing?” he eventually managed.

Russandol nodded once. “Yes.”

_ Elwing. She was alive this whole time. But – _

“H-how?” Eluréd stammered. “You said –”

“It came by word of mouth,” Russandol explained. “That of my scouts, and Orc-captives, at most. She dwells in the Havens of Sirion.”

Eluréd frowned. Beside him, Elurín said, “I have never heard of it.”

“It is the home of the refugees of Doriath and Gondolin.” Something haunted appeared in Russandol’s eyes. “The survivors of the Kinslaying, your people … they are there.”

Eluréd exchanged a glance with Elurín. He could feel Russandol’s gaze on them, and soon turned back to look at the ellon.

“And the Silmaril?” Eluréd asked.

Russandol hesitated.

“Adar?”

He sighed heavily. “It is there as well.”

Elurín sucked in a soft, sharp breath. “You are not thinking of …”

“No,” Russandol said, almost too forcefully.

Eluréd’s brow furrowed as he realized what that meant. “You are … going to wait?”

“I have forsworn my oath before my brothers and councillors,” Russandol said.

Eluréd glanced at Elurín, seeing his own uneasiness reflected in his brother’s eyes. Could Russandol really refuse the oath? After all he and his brothers had done … 

“As for you two …” Russandol continued. “My brothers and I have discussed it. It would be good for you to return to your kin.”

Something cold slivered down Eluréd’s spine. “Good, is it?” he said in a low voice. “Or a decision that is obligational because it is what everybody would expect to be made?”

Russandol held his gaze with steely eyes. Several things rose to Eluréd’s mind in the midst of his sudden anger and fear. Yet he pushed them to the back of his mind, not wanting to start another argument.

His brother came to his rescue. “Would they even accept us?” Elurín suggested. “We said a long time ago that they would not, because we have been raised by Fëanorians. Maedhros we call Adar. His brothers we call uncles.”

Russandol’s eye twitched. “They will likely think I turned your minds to my will,” he said, his tone turning expressionless. “It is enough that Amras and I can speak well, and Maglor can weave power into his music. You will be pitied as unfortunate children who had no choice.”

Elurín narrowed his eyes. “You have thought this out quite thoroughly, Adar. No doubt you are going to say that Elwing will hopefully recognize us, never mind the fact that she was only four when we were separated.”

Eluréd felt a mix of pride and gratitude at his brother's words. Elurín was holding his own for the both of them quite well.

Russandol, however, did not look surprised. _ He did add to our teachings in politics, _ Eluréd through darkly.

“You must understand,” Russandol said. “This is the better choice for you. You will be with your kin and sister, away from Kinslayers.”

“And when you finally decide to attack Sirion?” Eluréd demanded suddenly. “Would you be prepared to meet us on the battlefield?”

Russandol’s eyes flashed. “You think I would attack Sirion so blindly? Even before I attacked Doriath, I sent word to them.”

Elurín was undeterred. “If Elwing has our people for her councillors, they might advise her to give up the Silmaril. Surely they would want to avoid another massacre.”

Eluréd looked at his brother incredulously. “She cannot have councillors already; she is only eight!”

He glanced back to Russandol. The ellon had a slight smile at the corner of his lips.

“We were teaching you more than politics when you were but a year younger,” he pointed out. “You will have many skills to show them.”

“That is, if we decide to go,” Eluréd said.

Russandol gave them a stern look. “It has already been decided.”

There was a finality in his voice, but Eluréd was not finished. “By you, yes. Not by us,” he emphasized firmly. “We will be safe there if you succeed in forswearing the oath till the end of Arda, or if Elwing surrenders the Silmaril.” Anger seeped into his tone, unbidden. “You cannot make this decision for us without knowing what we think of it.”

“You think staying with me is the best option?” Russandol said, eyes burning into theirs.

“Yes,” Eluréd said boldly. “In a way.”

Russandol looked away, baring his teeth in frustration. He was not so open around his soldiers and followers, Eluréd knew. _ They must never see that he is afraid or hesitant, _ he thought. _ Their leader must be strong. _

But it also sounded rather tiring. And perhaps a little lonely.

Elurín stepped forward. He reached out and touched Russandol’s cheek, gently bringing his face around to look at him. Even sitting down, Russandol was still tall, but it was better than if he had been standing.

“Do you really want to see us go, Adar?” he said softly.

Russandol’s eyes trembled for a moment as he gazed at Elurín. “No,” he finally said. “I only want to see you safe.” His gaze flickered to Eluréd, and then back to Elurín. “Please, Elin Gelebrin, that is all I ask.”

Elurín glanced back at Eluréd, uncertainty in his face.

Eluréd sighed. “Will you at least let us discuss it, Adar?” he asked. “Do not send us away before we have had a chance to speak.”

Elurín nodded. “Our begetting day is approaching. Will you have us leave before then?”

That seemed to do the trick. Russandol sighed in resignation. “Very well. Discuss it, and then return to me.”

Elurín smiled. “Thank you, Adar.”

Side-by-side, the twins left and headed back to their bedchamber. They did not speak a while. Silence seemed to hover over the fortress, cooled by the breeze that preceded the oncoming rain clouds.

Eluréd neither liked nor disliked the quiet. On the one hand, no harsh words were being exchanged. On the other, his scrambled thoughts were gaining volume in his mind. It was easier to discuss them aloud. It forced him to put his thoughts in order. But how to start the conversation when he had so many things to say?

Elurín glanced sideways at him. “Do you think Elwing will surrender the Silmaril?” he asked.

Eluréd exhaled, grateful for the opening. “I hope so, but I highly doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Think about it,” Eluréd said. “Would you surrender the jewel that the Fëanorians killed Ada Dior and Nana Nimloth for?”

“Even then, would it not be the best option for the refugees of Doriath and Gondolin?” Elurín reasoned.

Eluréd looked through one of the corridor’s windows. The clouds were getting darker with rain. “They might think that the Fëanorians no longer have any claim to it.”

Elurín bit his lip in thought. “I can understand that, at least. But what would the refugees gain from keeping the jewel?”

“I have always wondered about that,” Eluréd said. “What does anybody gain from keeping it? What does Morgoth gain? An extra weight on his head. And it quickened the deaths of Grandmother and Grandfather,” he added.

“Do you remember what it looked like?” Elurín asked quietly.

“A little.” Eluréd hesitated. “Ada was mostly blocking it.”

“Yes, I remember,” his brother said, nodding slowly. “He would hold it close.”

There was a pause. 

“Eluréd,” Elurín said, eyes gleaming with worry, “I do not like the thought of being where the Silmaril is.”

“I agree,” Eluréd said firmly. “I would rather stay as far away from it as possible.”

They both looked out the window. A breeze washed over them from beyond, carrying the metallic smell of a storm.

***

One week later

That day, they spent the morning riding over the hills and into the forest. They did not go too far, as Russandol was still cautious despite the patrols. Nevertheless, they still managed to go a ways through the trees; they found a stream and listened to its music, and then returned to Russandol.

It was nearing late afternoon when they finally returned to the fortress. The servants dressed them in pale, celebratory robes, and then they were brought to the feast hall. As in all their previous begetting days, there was more food on the table than usual. They ate all that they could to satisfy their hunger, brought on from the day’s activities. Within the warmth of the hall and the feeling of fellowship at their table, both twins were well satisfied.

By the time the feast had finished, the moon was already in the sky. The twins moved slowly as they left the hall. Elurín rubbed his stomach.

“I am so full,” he sighed. “I think I could go for a week without food after this!”

Maglor and Amras came over to them, also dressed in their finer robes for the occasion. “Happy begetting day, boys,” Amras smiled, rubbing their heads. “Rest well; tomorrow is another day.”

Eluréd and Elurín kissed them goodnight on the cheek. All that was left was Russandol.

He now stood at their side. His right arm was uncovered, though his stump was hidden by his sleeve. “Did you have a good day?” he asked.

Eluréd nodded emphatically. “Yes, Adar. Thank you for the outing!”

“It was so much fun, Adar!” Elurín exclaimed. “I would like to visit the little stream again. I loved the sound of the water.”

“Then we shall do so sometime,” Russandol smiled. “But before you retire, I have something to show you.”

Eluréd blinked in surprise. Was it not nearing their bedtime? They still had to wash up … “What is it?”

“Follow me.”

Bewildered yet curious, the twins followed Russandol through the fortress and out onto the grounds. They were now just outside the gates; Russandol sat on the grass, and the twins followed his example.

He wrapped an arm around their shoulders. “Up there,” he murmured. “Do you see them?”

Eluréd and Elurín looked up. Scattered across the night sky were countless glittering stars. Russandol watched the sky for a moment, and then looked down at the twins. Their eyes were wide and full of awe. His heart was warmed, yet he could not help the wave of sadness that passed over him. However, he swallowed it back.

The twins looked at each other, and then at him. He saw the stars reflected in their eyes.

“I have a gift for you here,” he said, bringing out his gifts for them.

They were two circlets made of silver, and both set with identical crystals the size of a grown ellon’s thumb. They had been part of the original jewels brought from Valinor. One was set with silver wings, and the other was set with a wreath of silver rosemary leaves.

“Eluréd,” he said, “wings lifted in flight, because you are Thingol’s heir. And Elurín – leaves of rosemary, because you are Thingol’s remembrance.” He handed the twins their respective circlets. “They are for you, my Elin Gelebrin.”

The twins gazed at the circlets with wonder, delicately turning them over in their hands. “They are beautiful, Adar,” Eluréd said, running a finger over the intricate detail.

The twins put on the circlets, and Russandol was struck by how magnificent they looked despite the simplicity of their pale robes.

“How do we look?” Elurín asked expectantly.

“Very princely,” Russandol smiled. It felt partly forced. “You will be a sight to behold in – in Sirion.”

The twins exchanged glances. Russandol could feel his heart thudding against his ribs. They had not spoken of Sirion and the twins’ departure since that day when he had summoned them. 

“We discussed it, Adar,” Eluréd said after a moment, looking back at him.

His voice lowered to a breath. “And?”

“Well …” Eluréd had a sheepish look on his face. “We feel you will be angered whether we leave or stay.”

“We do not want you to be upset, Adar,” Elurín said earnestly.

Their concern made his chest ache. “Hmm. Then you need not tell me just yet, if you wish,” Russandol offered, feeling somewhat eased, but not completely. “We still have this moment to enjoy.”

To his surprise, the twins shifted closer and wrapped their arms around his torso. He held them tightly to his chest, kissing their hair. They may have decided to leave, or even to stay, but here in this moment they were with him.

“_Alassëa nostarë, _” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sindarin Words
> 
> Uiveleth -- Eternal Love  
In Elin Gelebrin -- The Silver Stars  
Adar/Ada -- Father/Dad  
Nana -- Mom  
ellon -- Elf-man (singular)
> 
> Quenya Words
> 
> Alassëa nostarë -- Happy begetting day / birthday
> 
> I wanted to leave it a little ambiguous on whether the twins were planning to leave or stay with Maedhros, but I think I left some definite hints on what their decision turned out to be ;)  
Anyways, here's the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading it! I had a great time writing it and sharing it with you all! :D And thank you so much for your feedback; I really appreciate all your comments and kudos!


	9. I Chaded Comic Cover

Here is the comic cover for chapter 5: I Chaded! I put a note there that I was planning a comic for that chapter, and now it's finally here! The first two pages will be posted on my social media today; the full pages will be easier to see on my [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/arlenianchronicles) (https://www.deviantart.com/arlenianchronicles), so I will direct you all there, if you are interested. My other social media links are posted there, as well :)


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